


as the stars fall

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Amnesia, Bodyswap, Friendship, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, POV First Person, Pretty much everyone is in this, Strangers to Lovers, Unreliable Narrator, Your Name AU, bit of kyman and stendy in the beginning, idk what to tag lmao, will update when necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-08 14:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13460061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Stan and Kyle lead two very different lives. Stan lives in Oregon and smokes weed, whereas Kyle lives in New Jersey and writes fanfiction. However, when they switch bodies, they share this scattered memory, almost like a distant dream that they just can't quite recall. It's fuzzy, but they remember wishing upon a shooting star.Their wish was to see their dead best friend just one last time.





	as the stars fall

**-Stan-**

_Hey. Can you hear me? It's me, ____!_

_What?_

_Don't you remember me?_

_..._

_Come on, that's not funny! Cut it out._

_Stan, please. I'm your best friend and you're acting like you have no idea who I am!_

_I've been waiting a long time for this, you know. The chance to finally see you again. It's honestly a miracle!_

_I'm so, so glad._

_..._

_Oh. Right. I see how it is._

_You really don't remember me, huh?_

_I can't say that I'm surprised._

_I thought it would be different this time, but I guess not._

_It always ends like this._

_It's okay if you don't remember, though._

_I'll be waiting until the day you do._

The dream was different this time. Normally it ends at 'I'm so, so glad', but for some reason, it continued on. Maybe the voice was trying to tell me something. It seemed a bit clearer too. Usually, the words form in my mind like whispers carried by the wind, but the voice was distinguishable. I didn't recognise it, but I could tell it was male. That made sense-my so called 'best friend' was another dude. It would have been weird if it was a girl. I wonder why I keep having this dream. I mean, I don't really believe in prophetic dreams or whatever, but maybe this dream was my subconscious trying to tell me something. Most people have dreams about flying, or dying, or just about anything, really. I dream about the best friend who I have forgotten telling me that he's glad to see me again.

At least in falls in line with the other dream I have. In that one, I'm looking up at the brilliant night sky. It's like a blue blanket speckled with white flecks. The cold evening wind bites at my skin. And there's something so isolating, yet inspiring about all of this. Under the vast cosmos, I felt like like I was standing in another universe. I was just a mere insect under the microscope of some god above, but I was an insect with nothing to owe to the world. There was no meaning to my life, but that didn't mean I couldn't create one for myself. Then I see a shooting star. I clasp my hands together, and make a wish. 

_I wish to see him again._

I couldn't even remember who this 'him' was. All I know is that we were best friends and that he died. That's what I could recall anyway. I guess we were super close, because why else would I so desperately want to see him again? It's funny, because you would think that someone so important to you, someone that you held so closely to your heart- you could never forget them, right? But I did. And I guess I should have been more angry, more sad, more  _something_ about all of this, but most of all, I just felt numb. Apathetic. How could I care about losing someone when I didn't even know who they were? It's like when you watch some random in a horror movie die- you watch it happen and accept it. It's not like you're actively caring about them. Maybe I chose to forget the pain and loss associated with losing my best friend, as if I locked up the traumatic experience in the deepest recesses of my mind and threw away the key. 

Man, I should really lay off the weed. It's probably why I'm having these strange ass dreams. But something inside of me tells me that these are more than just mere dreams. 

* * *

The sound of the alarm woke me up from my slumber. There was something nagging at me at the back of my mind, but I ignored it. Eyes feeling positively heavy with sleep and last night's bad choices (texting Wendy while drunk was NOT a good idea), I fumbled around for my phone to turn the damn thing off. And that's when I noticed something was wrong. My arms were white. I mean, they were always white, but this was a different kind of white. My arms were slightly tanned, toned, with a light dusting of black hair. But apparently, they were now this pasty, almost sickly white, long and lanky. And they also had freckles on them. What the fuck was going on?

I quickly scanned the rest of my body. I was wearing a singlet and boxer shorts. At least something was familiar here. But at the same time, the realisation that these clothes might not have belonged to me forced itself into my thoughts. Yes, they were the same colour and size, but that didn't mean they were mine. I glanced over my exposed skin. The tone matched my arms, but the leg hair was not coloured how it was supposed to be. It was ginger. Not black. 

There was something definitely wrong here. 

This wasn't my body. 

Okay, so maybe this was all just a dream. An incredibly immersive one, but still, a dream nonetheless. I would wake up, and everything would return to normal. Craig would be there at school to tease me about how lame and basic football was, and I would counter with how his stupid film club didn't even get to do anything fun. We would banter for a bit, before finally being broken apart by our more 'responsible' friends (Jimmy matched that description, Clyde, not so much) and then we would get ready for class. Yeah. That was the routine I was used to, and I was glad that it never really changed. While I didn't like it when things were always nice and boring as Craig put it, that didn't mean I couldn't appreciate a moment of peace and quiet in our hectic lives. 

Maybe I could... I pinched my cheek. Ow! I'm not surprised, that usually never works. This was one persistent dream. 

A morbid curiosity struck me, worming its way into my brain. It was a horrible idea and an invasion of privacy, but I couldn't bring myself to stop it from happening. I wrapped my hands around the band of the boxers, and slowly pulled it down, afraid yet fascinated of what I was about to see. Ginger pubic hair. Like I thought. But another thing that sticks out to me is this guy's penis. He was circumcised. It wasn't like I was purposely trying to look at another dude's dick, but having never seen a cut one, it was quite noticeable. Was he religious? Or more specifically, Jewish? Although my family was Catholic, I was never circumcised. Dad never really saw the point to it. I bet he would tell me now that it would be easier to fuck someone with your foreskin acting as some sort of lubricant. Ugh.

The persistent buzzing of the phone alarm brought me back. I tapped the snooze button. Thank god, another five minutes of peace. Well, dream peace anyway. Another thing that confirmed how I wasn't in my own body was this person's phone. The lock screen was composed of an overweight yet muscled teenage boy, with an arm around the shoulders of a smaller, skinny redhead wearing a green hat. That was me- well, not exactly me, but you get what I mean. I bit my lip as a stream of thoughts flowed through my mind. So was the fat guy my best friend or something? 

I tried to learn more about the person my body belongs to, but I was blocked by a pesky pass code. Damn it. Oh well. I guess I shouldn't be prying that much anyway. I was about to give up when I suddenly realised that the phone's home button could also act as a finger scanner. I'm telling myself, this isn't going to work, but then there's the logical side of me arguing that there's no reason why it shouldn't. This was technically my fingerprint. Bingo. I was in. Swiping across the various home screens, I quickly tapped into a number of apps, trying to construct a mental profile of the body I was in. Let's see... My name was Kyle Broflovski. I was 17 years old and I was in my final year at the local high school. I lived in New Jersey. I was Jewish. 

I had the basic details about Kyle and his family. It was strangely interesting, like I was a detective searching for clues about the perpetrator. But before I could probe further into Kyle's personal life, a shrill voice from downstairs interrupted me. "Kyle, bubba! Get out of bed, you're gonna be late for school!" the voice exclaimed. It was feminine and dripping with the concern that only a mother could have possessed. 

"C-coming!" I stuttered out, fear and apprehension welling within me. Why hadn't this dream ended yet? There was no way I could actually live somebody else's life! For one, I had no clue who this person was, how they interacted with other people, or anything really. I knew who Kyle was on a basic level, but I couldn't ever replicate what made him,  _him_  on a deeper scale.

There was a silent affirmation in return, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. Kyle's mother didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Not yet, anyway. I jumped out of bed and checked the closet for something to wear. I groaned in exasperation at the lack of diversity. Kyle really needed to up his fashion sense. Practically everything he owned was some variation of green, white, or orange. It was kind of sad. I mean, I didn't really care what people wore, but inhabiting Kyle's body, I felt like I had to do him some sort of justice. 

As I was changing, my eyes were drawn to the mirror in the room, and I looked at my reflection. I paused, hands lingering over Kyle's body. He was basically a skeleton in a meat suit. His ribs jutted out unnaturally and his arms were bony and brittle. It looked like he didn't even have a stomach. It was almost as if he could snap in half. This kid... Just what happened to him? Did he suffer from an eating disorder or something? How the hell could someone my age be so skinny? A surge of sympathy welled within me. 

After looking somewhat decent, I prepared myself for what was about to happen. Surely Kyle's mom would be able to discern that I was not, in fact, her child. As I slowly walked down the stairs, resigning myself to my fate, the scent of pancakes and syrup wafted in the air. Yum. I headed into the dining room, taking a seat next to an unfamiliar young boy. I assumed he was Ike, Kyle's little brother. He stared at me with beady eyes, animosity clear as day. What was his problem? Maybe he could already tell that I wasn't actually his brother.

"So Kyle, did you sleep well?" Mrs. Broflovski asked, sipping on a cup of coffee. I looked up at Kyle's mother. She had bright red hair like Kyle,and she had a healthily plump looking figure. 

"Yeah." I said. I didn't want to say anything else, because maybe Kyle was really plain and straight forward in the way he spoke. However, I felt bad for lying to her face. Judging from the dark circles around his sunken, dull green eyes, Kyle did not sleep well at all. 

"You were sleep talking." Ike interjected, playing with a piece of pancake. 

"Huh? What did I talk about?" I asked, confused. 

"It was really weird, you were rambling on about wanting to see him again," Ike replied. "Whatever that means. You fag." 

"Ike!" Kyle's mom reprimanded, scowling deeply at Ike. "I will not have such discriminatory remarks in my house, understand? Now apologize to Kyle, now."

A piece of pancake flopped out of my mouth. Kyle was gay? Oh. That's uh. Hmm. It kind of made sense though, with how affectionate he looked with the bigger guy on his lock screen. I didn't know how to feel about this.

"Sorry dude," Ike said, not sounding sorry at all. "I didn't mean it." 

"It's fine. I know you were just joking around." I offered hesitantly. I looked down at my plate of food, trying to ignore everyone's gaze. 

There was an awkward silence in the air, as if I had just said something wrong. Fuck. I probably shouldn't have said that.

"Wow Kyle, what's gotten into you? Normally you would have lost your temper at a comment like that. I'm surprised you're so calm now." Sheila murmured softly. 

"Oh- um, I can get angry if you want?" I said weakly, laughing self deprecatingly. Yeah, that was definitely not the right thing to say. "I mean, I remember being Ike's age and thinking it was cool to call everything gay. Puberty does that to you. So I understand." I added on, trying to justify my sudden change in personality.

Ike glared at me, but Kyle's mom seemed to be appeased by this. "I'm glad that you've become so mature, Kyle." she said, smiling gently. "And look at you go, eating all that food! I knew I made the right choice consulting with Dr. Ward."

I nodded in affirmation as I thought about her words. Dr. Ward? So Kyle did have some sort of condition. I was willing to bet that his eating disorder also contributed to his short temper. And maybe I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, but as long I was in Kyle's body, I was going to help him make the right choices. Even if this was all just a dream, it pained me to see that boy in the mirror who was skin and bones, devoid of life. 

"How could I ever resist your delicious cooking?" I said, laying on the charm thick. I knew it was out of character for Kyle, but seeing his mother happy would have made him happier too. Probably. 

"Oh, stop it you. Now you boys better head off now or you'll miss the bus!" Kyle's mom said. Ike began to head out somewhere, and as I was unsure of what to do, I followed him. Kyle's mom glanced at me. "Aren't you going to get your bag? she asked, a questioning tone to her voice.

"Right. Of course. Haha."

I retrieved everything I thought I would need from Kyle's room and exited the house. Ike was waiting for me outside. The weather was warm, and the skies were clear which was a pleasant change to Portland's constant dark, cloudy skies. Ike began walking down the path, and having absolutely no idea where the bus stop was, I followed slightly behind. 

"You're not wearing your hat." Ike commented. Shit. I wasn't wearing the hat. Kyle's green hat was a crucial part of his outfit. How could I have forgotten it? Self-conscious, I ran a hand through my hair. It was a strange sensation. Where my hair was straight and fine, Kyle's red locks were a curly mess, untameable. 

"No." was all that I could come up with. 

"Whatever." Ike replied. Thank god he didn't press the matter further. 

"So uh," I began, trying to think of something to talk about. I decided to go for school. School was always a safe topic, if a bit boring. "How's school been?" I asked. 

"Fine." He suddenly stopped and turned to face me. "Why do you care?" Ike asked, suspicion clear in his voice. 

"Can't I just have a pleasant conversation with my brother?" I said, trying to sound lighthearted. In truth, I was trying to hide the crippling anxiety that had seized me. I felt like vomiting. Ike would figure out the truth.

"I guess." he said flatly. 

We continued to walk in silence after that. If Ike had anything else to say, he decided not to. I was relieved beyond measure. I might have dodged the bullet this time, but I knew I couldn't keep up the act forever. After walking for a bit longer, we arrived at something that looked like a bus shelter. There were a large number of kids there, all different ages. I turned to look at Ike, but he had vanished into the masses, probably to go hang out with his own friends. Fuck.

Like a lost sheep just waiting to be devoured by the big bad wolf, I awkwardly hung around off to the side. I'm no stranger to these type of situations, but that didn't mean it was any more fun

"Oi, Kyle! Jew! Over here!" a male voice suddenly called out, grabbing my attention. I made my way to the source of the voice, glad to be rescued. It was a large young man, the one on Kyle's lock screen. He was a bit overweight, but he wielded an air of power and authority. A stark contrast to Kyle's lithe frame. Then I processed what he actually said. Jew? Why would he address Kyle by that? Maybe it was just an inside joke, but that was kinda on the nose, right? He walked over to me.

Then he kissed me on the cheek. the Instinctively, I shoved him away, recoiling from the physical contact. He must have noticed how I was unable to hide the disgust from showing on my face because he stepped away wearing a hurt expression.

"What the fuck dude?" he snarled. 

I glanced to the side, not wanting to look at him. "Sorry..." I muttered. As if that could excuse what I just did. Even if I didn't know who the fuck this person was, Kyle was his boyfriend, and so, I had to act like it. Noticing the commotion, some of the other boys who I assumed were Kyle's friends approached us. There were two blondes and a black dude. 

"Trouble in paradise, huh Eric?" one of the blondes said, speaking in a long drawl. He was quite short and there was a rather large scar on his left eye.

"It's none of your business Butters. But Kahl's acting weirdly." the overweight guy, Eric, remarked sharply. The blonde known as Butters let out something that resembled a squeak and turned in on himself. So Eric was the ringleader here, huh?

The other blonde, who was holding a flask of coffee, spoke up. "Wh-what if the, ngh, aliens are controlling him? Gah!" he stammered out. Jeez, that kid was unhinged to say the least. 

The black guy rubbed the twitchy blonde's back. "Calm down Tweek, the aliens aren't controlling Kyle. If they were, they'd probably be invading our bodies as well or something." he said. His voice was soothing, but what he said wasn't exactly the most reassuring.  

"I don't what came over me. I had a really rough night, babe." I said, trying to ease the situation. It was a shitty explanation but hopefully it would get them off my back.

I was wrong. "What did you just call me?" Eric said, his voice almost a growl.

"Babe?" I asked, more to myself than to him.

"You never call me that. It's always fatass or something like that. Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my Kyle?" Eric threatened.

Oh fuck me. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I watched your name the other day, and I fell in love with it tbh :') it inspired me to write this fic
> 
> There'll be a number of different pairings throughout this, but the endgame is Style. As always, if you're enjoying this then please let me know your thoughts in the comments or by leaving a kudos. Thanks! :)


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